The Great Gatsby Algèrnon
by Zabe Rogue
Summary: Dr. Gatsby Cecilia Algèrnon is a 19-year-old criminal psychologist who now works at the BAU as a profiler. But this isn't Psych 101. Will Gatsby be able to handle the psychos, drama, scandal... AND a certain genius doctor? NEW CHAPTER UP!
1. Intro: September

**Author's Note: Zabe here! Here is the story of Gatsby and Spencer through Gatsby's eyes! I'm sort of following the series and I'm sort of not. It's mostly going to revolve around Reid but the team is TOTALLY in it. Anyway, for those of you who aren't familiar with my OC, Gatsby Algèrnon, let me give u a little background: Gatsby is related to Morgan. She's two years younger than Reid, a psychological profiler (meaning her speciality is psychology, also linguistics and mental crimes), and she LOVES Japanese Anime, (mostly Hello Kitty and Sailor Moon), Butterflies, music. She has a son named, David and a dark secret. But don't they all? ;) **

**Here's how you pronounce her last name: The e is accented, making the "g" sound like an "h", so it's Al-HER-non not Al-GER-non. Her father was Cuban. So, I may put her background story on my profile. Anyway, ENJOY!**

* * *

><p><strong>The Great Gatsby Algèrnon<strong>

* * *

><p><strong><em><span>Intro: September<span>_**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Of all the things I still remember<strong>_

_**Summer's never looked the same**_

_**The years go by and time just seems to fly**_

_**But the memories remain**_

_**In the middle of September we'd still play out in the rain**_

_**Nothing to lose but everything to gain**_

_**Reflecting now on how things could've been**_

_**It was worth it in the end**_

_**-"September" by Daughtry**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>July 2013<strong>_

* * *

><p><em>Virginia Beach never looked so calm and peaceful. Maybe it was this particular day or the breeze in the wind, who knows? All Dr. Spencer Reid knew was that he would never forget Virginia Beach. Of course he can't forget anything but this place held a special place in his heart. After all, this was the place where he first met the woman he would soon marry.<em>

"_Hope you're not having second thoughts, Reid."_

_Surprised by the voice, Spencer turned around to find his former mentor standing behind him._

_ "I thought you weren't going to make it." _

_Jason Gideon smiled. "I wouldn't miss this for anything. How are you feeling?"_

_ "Honestly," Spencer sighed. "A little nervous but I've never been more sure and ready about anything before in my life."_

_ "I had a feeling that would be your answer. Actually, I had a feeling that you two would get together sooner or later."_

_ "Really? When?"_

_Gideon didn't answer the question; he simply smiled and patted Reid's shoulder. However, he knew almost right away that Reid's life was about to change the moment Supervisory Special Agent Dr. Gatsby Cecilia Algérnon came into his life._

* * *

><p><em><strong>June 2002…<strong>_

* * *

><p><em>Dr. Spencer Reid figured he should take some downtime after a hectic first few months of his new job. He just started working at the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit for two months, 3 weeks, 25 days and already he was feeling the pressure. He looked at the word puzzle he was working on, still baffled by one of the words.<em>

"_What's a 12-letter word for 'cynical'?" He asked out loud._

"_Misanthropic." A voice answered._

_ Spencer turned to see a young woman sitting not far from him, reading a book. She looked like was in her late teens, early 20's. She had caramel-skin, almond brown eyes and medium, auburn-red hair. Her dress was rather unique. She was wearing black rhinestone capris, pink/black Happy Bunny T-Shirt, a Blue Pinstripe Vest and black pumps. Spencer looked at this girl in a shocking, weird way. _

_ "I'm sorry?" He said._

_ "You wanted a 12-letter word," The girl replied. "I gave you one."_

_ "Oh, thanks." Spencer thanked. "Um…how-how did you know that?"_

_ The girl shrugged. "I'm very good at words. I also have a BA in English so…I know a little something, something."_

_Spencer blinked. "BA? Forgive me for asking but how old are you?"_

"_I turned 19 in February." The girl replied. "I'm about to graduate from Columbia Grad School soon. I'm just here in Virginia to see my family."_

"_Wow, you must be a genius." Spencer awed._

"_Yeah, well. I'm glad I could help with your puzzle." The girl grabbed her bags and started to leave. "I better be going, I gotta meet my uncle."_

_Spencer didn't want this girl to leave. He wanted her to stay, get to know her, know her name. Spencer Reid had literally 235 questions forming in his head. But nothing was coming out of his mouth._

_ "Wait…. I-I didn't get your name."_

_ The girl looked at Spencer for a moment, as if she were thinking about the answer._

_ "Gatsby." She said. "My name is Gatsby."_

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: I'M MAKING THE CHAPTERS SONG TITLES! DON'T ASK WHY, I CAN'T GIVE U A REASON. BUT IF ANYONE HAVE A GOOD SONG TITLE FOR A CHAPTER, LET ME KNOW!<strong>_

_**ALSO REID AND REVIEW!**  
><em>


	2. Chapter I: Hand in Pocket

**_Chapter 1: Hand in Pocket_**

* * *

><p><em><strong>FBI Behavioral Analysis Unit Office, Quantico, VA<strong>_

_**September 6, 2002; 5:34 P.M.**_

* * *

><p>"Please tell me this is a joke." She said.<p>

"No, ma'am, it's not. I want her on my team."

FBI Section Chief Erin Strauss looked at Aaron Hotchner, the Unit Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit, like he was senseless.

"There is _no way _I'm letting an insubordinate, reckless cadet on this team!"

"Dr. Algèrnon is not a cadet." Hotch argued. "She's a Probationary Agent for the Psychiatric Department."

"And you think transferring straight from a desk job to the field is going to be good for this girl?"

"Have you looked at her file? Dr. Algèrnon spent the better part of her cadet training working for Terry Swanson's Strategic Unit. Psychology is her forte which is something that this team needs."

"And I agree, Agent Hotchner." Strauss said. "But not from a child!"

"Need I remind you that you authorized Dr. Spencer Reid's admission to this unit?"

"That was different. Dr. Reid has great intellect."

"So does Dr. Algernon." Hotch defended. "She scored the highest in her defense qualifications at the Academy, her IQ is 184, and she's fluent in 4 languages, not including English. Do you want me to remind you of the age difference between her and Dr. Reid?"

"No, thank you." Strauss sighed. She knew Hotch wasn't going to let this go without a fight. Perhaps this girl is everything what Hotch says she is. And if she isn't, Hotch will look extremely bad. That will make Erin Strauss feel really good. Strauss took the paper from Hotch's hands and signed it.

"Very well, Aaron." She said. "Dr. Algèrnon is a member of your team. It won't be official until another week but I suggest you tell your other members the good news."

"Thank you, ma'am." Hotch thanked, smiling from the inside.

"Don't make me regret this."

Hotch knew that Strauss' warning wasn't idle. Hiring a certified psychologist whose not quite old enough to drink yet was a big risk. But the moment he met her during that lecture in Columbia, he knew there was something special about her. Something unique. It was only a matter of time before everyone else caught on. Well…. someone already did.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Gillespie Ave. Restaurant<strong>_

_**September 7, 2002; 7:25 P.M.**_

* * *

><p>The dinner rush barely started within the last hour and the restaurant was already packed. Kimiko Watanabe was impressed. Mondays were usually their slow days but today they were making good business. Of course, being a bartender, everyday is a good day. Kimiko looked up to see a tall, built dark-skinned man walking towards the bar. He came over to Kimiko and smiled.<p>

"What's up, Crouching Tiger?" He greeted.

"Nothing much, Amistad." Kimiko replied. "You want the usual?"

"Yeah, make it a cold one. Is my niece back there?"

"She's getting ready for her number. But she goes on at 8:00 so I guess it's okay for you to go back there."

The man smiled at the sassy, Japanese bartender as he made his way towards the kitchen. If this were any typical customer, the owner would've had him thrown out. But Derek Morgan was not a typical customer.

"Yo, Remy!" He called out.

Remy Laurent looked up from his books when he heard his name. He was a tall, young Indian man well dressed in British couture, black hair spiked. He looked at Derek for a brief moment then went back to his books.

"She's in the changing room, Morgan." He said. "Tell her she's got less than 30 minutes."

"You got it, Bossman."

Derek headed to a small room near the back and he knocked on the door.

"Jesus, Remy!" A voice complained. "I'll be ready in 5 minutes!"

"It's not Remy, Buttercup."

The door suddenly swung open nearly catching Derek off-guard. A young woman looked at him and smiled big.

"Uncle D!" Gatsby Algèrnon squealed. "I didn't know you were coming!"

Derek laughed as he gave his niece a big hug. "Well, I thought I would come over and surprise my favorite niece."

"I'm your _only _niece, Uncle Derek." Gatsby reminded as she stepped aside to let her uncle inside the dressing room. "What's up?"

"Oh, you know: women, work, life." Derek smiled. "Just an ordinary day."

"It still amazes me how you put it in that particular order. But that's not what I meant."

"What do you mean then?"

Gatsby started to respond when she was cut off by a knock on her door. A young girl, roughly 3 years older, emerged from the edge of the doorway. Her skin complexion was slightly darker than Gatsby's and her hair was golden blonde.

"Hey, Remy wants to know if you're ready yet." She said.

Gatsby groaned in frustration. "The gig doesn't start until 8:00, Celeste. It's 7:45 and I got plenty of time so tell him I'm talking to my uncle right now."

"Okay, don't kill the messenger. I'll tell him. How's it going, Morgan?"

"Not too shabby, Celeste." Derek replied. "Tell your crumpet-eating fiancé I said hi."

"Not everyone from England eats crumpets, moron." Celeste Johnson retorted. "And where's my bridal shower present?"

"At Victoria's Secret."

Celeste shook her head while Gatsby just laughed. "Can you give us a minute, Celeste?" She asked.

"I'll give y'all all the time you need."

As Celeste left the room, Derek got himself comfortable on the couch while Gatsby was styling her hair.

"So, what's the verdict?"

"Verdict?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Derek Morgan." Gatsby said. "You know what I'm talking about. How did the meeting go with Agent Hotchner and Chief Strauss?"

"I wouldn't know," Derek replied. "I wasn't there."

"But you know _something right?"_

Derek sighed. Gatsby was stubborn; she was never going to let this subject go.

"Shouldn't you wait a couple more years before you get out there?"

Gatsby turned around and looked at Derek. "You think I'm too young for this job?"

"That's not what I'm saying…"

"Then what is it? Come on, Uncle D, give it to me straight."

Derek exhaled and came over to Gatsby.

"It's hard enough being an FBI agent," He began. "But an FBI profiler is a whole different ballgame. You have to be prepared, not only physically but also mentally and emotionally. We're chasing some real sickos out there."

"Don't you think I know that?" Gatsby replied. "I've seen worse things while I was overseas."

"This isn't boarding school, Gatsby."

_**Oh if you only knew, Uncle Derek. **_Gatsby thought.

"So, you think I'm not mentally and emotionally mature for this?"

"Personally, yeah. But it doesn't matter what I think, it's Hotch's decision."

"And what did he say?"

"He fought for you and won. You start next Monday, girl."

Gatsby let out a big squeal and gave her uncle a huge bear hug.

"Thank you, thank you so much!" She cheered.

"Don't thank me, sweetheart." Derek laughed. "You earned your place in the BAU. But you have to _work hard _to keep it. Don't count on your uncle to bail you out."

"Don't worry, Uncle D." Gatsby assured. "I didn't get four degrees and become a Rhodes scholar for nothing. I got this."

"I guess that boarding school _was_ worth Mama working two jobs."

"Ha-ha."

Suddenly, the door burst open and Remy waltzed in with an impatient look on his face.

"Gatsby!" He exclaimed. "Are you finished talking? You're on in less than 5 minutes!"

"¡_Oh dios, Remy! ¡Pare el ser un dolor en mi asno, yo están listo!"_ Gatsby snapped.

"Don't snap at me in Spanish!"

"Do you prefer French?"

Remy gave Gatsby a steely glare, and then he turned to Derek.

"You know, what we called girls like her in the French Quarter?" He whispered.

"No, what?" Derek smiled.

"_Chiennes têtues._"

Before Remy knew it, a brush was hurled at him. He saw a fuming Gatsby narrow her honey brown eyes at him. He just smiled.

"You know I love you, right?"

"You better be glad Carmine is your boyfriend," He said. "Otherwise, I would've slapped you back to New Orleans."

"I know. But all joking aside, you're about to start."

"Okay."

Gatsby put on her blue polka-dot wedges and took one last look at herself in the mirror. She started to follow Remy before Derek stopped her.

"Don't think I was against you being on this team with me." He said.

"I wasn't for a second." Gatsby objected. "Well, maybe for a millisecond."

"Anyway, I know you're a tough girl, you're related to me. I just worry about you."

"I'm 19, Derek, I'm can take care of myself. If any Unsubs try to touch me, I'll shoot them."

"You _do _know you're not supposed to get your firearm until you're 20, right."

Gatsby made a face. "Oh. Well, I can still fight. I can do this, Uncle Derek."

Derek smiled. "Then prove Strauss wrong on Monday." He said. "Now get out of here before Remy hunts you down again."

Gatsby gave Derek a hug and a kiss on the cheek before leaving the dressing room. Derek let out a long breath he didn't know he was holding. It finally dawned on him- His niece was going to be working in the FBI alongside him. He knew Gatsby was smart for her age. She has two doctorates in Psychology & English, a BA in Sociology and a Masters in Criminology. Not to mention she was a Rhodes scholar and graduated summa cum laude from Columbia. There was no doubt Gatsby was intelligent. But with being a profiler, that can only get so far. He watched his niece sing a jazzy version of Alanis Morrisette's _**Hand in Pocket:**_

"_**And what it all boils down to**_

_**Is that no one's really got it figured out just yet**_

_**'cause I've got one hand in my pocket**_

_**And the other one is playing the piano**_

_**And what it all comes down to my friends**_

_**Is that everything's just fine fine fine**_

_**'cause I've got one hand in my pocket**_

_**And the other one is hailing a taxi cab"**_

And Derek Morgan wondered if his niece, Dr. Gatsby Cecilia Algèrnon, was truly ready to be a profiler?

* * *

><p><strong>Translations: <strong>_**¡Oh dios, Remy! ¡Pare el ser un dolor en mi asno, yo están listo!= Oh God, Remy! Stop being a pain in my ass, I'm ready!**_

_**Chiennes têtues=Stubborn bitches**_

_** Gatsby speaks fluent Spanish and French and her friend, Remy, speaks fluent French as well so...There will be a lot of translating in the Spanish and French languages. Just so u know.**_


	3. Chapter II: Enchanted Pt 1

**A/N: Sorry for the long update! **

**This is Gatsby's POV!**

* * *

><p><strong><em><span>Chapter 2: Enchanted Pt. 1<span>_**

* * *

><p><strong><em>There I was again tonight<em>**

**_Forcing laughter, faking smiles_**

**_Same old tired lonely place_**

**_Walls of insincerity,_**

**_Shifting eyes and vacancy_**

**_Vanished when I saw your face_**

**_All I can say is it was enchanting to meet you_**

**_-"Enchanted" by Taylor Swift_**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Gatsby Algèrnon's Loft Apt. ; Marshall Heights, Washington D.C.<strong>_

_**Mon. September 16, 2002; 5:45 A.M.**_

* * *

><p><em>"….Wake up kids, we got the dreamer's disease<em>

_Age 14, we got you down on your knees_

_So polite, you're busy still saying please…."_

Gatsby Algèrnon shut off the alarm on her cell phone and struggled to sit up. She was used to waking up early but that doesn't mean she didn't want to. However, today was her first day working for the BAU in the FBI. This excited yet frightened Gatsby at the same time. She was a profiler and FBI agent, possibly the youngest one ever. Yet this was scary for her because she was branching on new terrortory. Profiling is not a simple job as her uncle kept reminding her; there were going to be horrors, psychopaths, and other unimaginable things that await her. Everyday is a chance to prove to everyone, including Strauss and Hotch that she was cut out for this job. Of course, that means Gatsby had to travel to different states for days, probably weeks at a time. But if it means providing for her family, then it was worth the sacrifice.

Gatsby's thoughts were interrupted by a knock on her door.

"Hey, Agent Algèrnon." Celeste Johnson greeted. "You're ready for your first day of work?"

Gatsby laughed. "Oh man, I'm not sure if I can get used to that."

"Well, you're working for the Government now, you're not going to get used to a lot of things."

"Maybe I should've taken a 9-to-5 job after I graduated, like you did."

"Honey, please." Celeste scoffed. "By less than two months, _you're_ going to need a therapist. You don't belong in a stuffy office."

Gatsby shrugged as she rummaged through her closet and got out a royal purple suede jacket. Then she held out two shirts for Celeste to see.

"Which shirt you think goes with this jacket?" She asked. "The red one or the yellow one?"

Celeste eyed the two shirts. One was a dark red short sleeve shirt with a gold dragon design in the center. The other was a yellow sleeveless shirt with black Japanese letters on the side. Celeste kept looking at the blouses then at her best friend.

"You know, any decision today would be nice." Gatsby coaxed.

"Why go with these blouses?" Celeste asked.

"Because they look good."

"Gatsby, you're an FBI agent now. You need to start looking professional."

"That's _exactly _what I'm doing. But not at the expense of my own individuality."

"Do you think people would take you seriously wearing clothes like that?"

"If I do my job and use my psychology expertise in my profiling, my clothes wouldn't matter." Gatsby said. "I going to do my job and be true to myself. If they don't like it, well screw 'em."

Celeste smiled. "I love your way of looking at life. I'd go with the yellow shirt, complements the jacket."

Gatsby put the shirt next to the jacket and smiled. "You're right." She said. "That means I have to change my accessories. What time is it?"

Celeste looked at her watch. "Uh…it's almost 10 after 6."

"Oh, crap! I'm supposed be there at 7:30! I gotta get ready."

"Relax, you got plenty of time. Just get ready and come downstairs to the restaurant. Remy cooked some breakfast for you."

"What about David ? I have to…"

"I'll wake him up for you." Celeste offered. "Just get ready."

Gatsby gave Celeste a look before retreating to the bathroom in her room. It was a very small bathroom: a toilet, a sink, a 60's style bathtub and a dirty window overlooking half of Marshall Heights. Gatsby's apartment was small, too small for her and her son to live in, but they make it work. The upside to this was that she didn't have to travel far for a good breakfast.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Gillespie Ave. Restaurant<strong>_

_**Mon. September 16, 2002; 6:05 A.M.**_

* * *

><p>Gillespie Ave. didn't open until 8:30 A.M. so Remy Laurent, used that time to cook his closest friends (who just happen to live in the apartments above the restaurant) a good, old-fashioned Cajun breakfast. Today, he pulled all the stops because one of his best friends was starting her first job. He heard Kimiko Watanabe and her fiancé, Shane Tennyson enter the restaurant.<p>

"Hey, is Gatsby up yet?" Kimiko asked.

"Celeste woke her up this morning," Remy answered. "I guess she's getting ready. Did you bring the stuff I asked you?"

Shane got out a bottle of Tabasco sauce from his backpack and a colorful tin can.

"Yeah, we got it." He said.

"Good. Celeste and Kent already got their job-warming gift so the only thing to do is wait for the guest of honor."

"Awesome," Kimiko remarked. "So is breakfast ready because I'm starved!"

"Hold ya' breaks." Remy stopped her. "We gotta wait for Gatsby."

Kimiko rolled her eyes. "I know it takes long for women to get ready but it doesn't take _that _long for her."

"Aw, Kimi knows me so well."

They all turned to see Gatsby and Celeste walking downstairs with a young three-year-old boy in tow. Gatsby was wearing her yellow Japanese blouse and royal purple suede jacket with black/yellow plaid trousers and purple pumps. Celeste was wearing denim pants and a solid pink V-neck blouse.

"Honestly Remy, in all the years you've known me, you know I'm a ten-minute girl. I always get ready in 10 minutes or less."

"That's including showers right?"

Gatsby gave Remy a hard glare. "I would love to give you a certain gesture but my son is in the room."

"Ain't stopped ya before, CeCe."

Moments later, two young men came in from the kitchen. One was a tall, muscle-toned dark-skinned man in his late 20's with medium long dreads and grey eyes. The other man was shorter, average built with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes. He wasn't that much older than Celeste.

"Are you two arguing again?" The second man asked, with a British accent.

"It wouldn't be a normal day if we weren't." Remy answered.

The taller man, known as Carmine Johnson, simply laughed and came over to Remy, kissing him on the lips.

"That's true, _mon chere." _He agreed. "That's true."

Gatsby rolled her eyes. "Hey, if you guys are going to make out, do it now." She said. "I gotta go to work soon."

"You're not leaving that quickly." Carmine objected. "We're not letting you start your job without an empty stomach, you're going to have some breakfast."

"Plus we have some gifts we want to give you." Celeste added. She turned to the second man and asked: "Hey Kent, did you get it?"

"Of course I did." Kent Bradley answered. "I wasn't going to forget that."

He then rushed upstairs, earning Gatsby a confused look.

"Okay…what's going on, besides breakfast?"

"We are giving you a job-warming breakfast party." Kimiko explained. "And we brought you some gifts for your first day." She nudged Shane's arm. "Give it to her."

"Oh, right." Shane remarked. He grabbed the tin can off the bar table and gave it to Gatsby. "This is from me and Kimiko."

Gatsby opened the can and found that it was filled with various forms of fun-sized chocolate candy: Snickers, Reese's, Milky Ways, and M&Ms. She smiled at Shane and Kimiko and gave them a hug.

"Aw, thanks guys."

"You gotta satisfy your sweet tooth." Kimiko said.

Remy came over to Gatsby with a small box in his hand. Gatsby eyed the box suspiciously.

"Just open it," Remy assured. "It ain't a bomb or nothin'."

"Can't be too sure with you." Gatsby said. But she opened the box anyway. It wasn't a bomb but a purple iPod with a blue/yellow butterfly on the center.

"Remy and I downloaded all of your mix CDs into it," Carmine explained. "That way, whenever you're having one of your stressed out moments or breakthroughs, you can take your music with you."

"You guys are something else." Gatsby commented. She gave Carmine a neck-squeezing hug. "Thank you."

"Anytime, Gatz." Carmine said.

"Wait, wait!" Celeste called out. "There's one more present we have to give you."

Gatsby rolled her eyes. "I get the feeling I'm going to be late for work."

"You won't, trust me."

Then, as if on cue, Kent came back downstairs carrying a rectangular box, beautifully gift-wrapped. He placed the box on the table.

"This present is to you." He said. "From Celeste and I."

"No, it ain't." Remy objected. "It's from _all of us. _Why do you two have to get all the credit?"

"We're not taking all the credit." Celeste argued. "But we _did_ buy it."

"Don't defend your fiancé." Kimiko said. "And besides, I was the one who had it FedEx internationally."

"Guys!" Carmine stopped the bickering. "We all chipped in; now let Gatsby see what it is."

Gatsby shook her head and opened her present. When she did, all of the words refused to form from her mouth. In that bag, was a rare authentic Hello Kitty messenger bag. It was the anime version of Hello Kitty, dressed as a samurai, with Japanese writing on it. The bag was black with pink blots of glitter. Gatsby looked at this unique bag for a long time. Then she looked at her friends.

"When did you get this?" She asked. "No, better yet, _where _did you get this? I thought these bags were all sold out in London?"

"Well, Kimi's cousin is good friends with the designer in Tokyo who makes those bags." Shane explained.

"So I called in a favor, told them the design and we had it shipped here last week." Kimiko added.

"It wasn't cheap either." Remy remarked. "It took nearly half of _all _of _everyone's _rent to pay for the bag alone. But it was worth it."

"You didn't have to do all of this," Gatsby said. "I would've been happy with just a sendoff."

"I know. But you're my _petite soeur. _I want you to know that I got your back."

Gatsby engulfed Remy into a warm embrace. "I always know you got my back, Rems. Thanks, you guys. Now, can we _please _eat? I'm starving."

"Couldn't agree with you more." Shane agreed as he went to the kitchen to get the food.

"So Gatz, you're nervous about being in the FBI?" Carmine asked.

"Not really." Gatsby answered. "Uncle Derek told me that everyone there is particularly nice but…"

"But what?"

"He told me that this genius was hired during the spring and Hotch, my boss, is kinda worried that we might butt heads or something."

"What's his name?" Remy asked.

"Hold up," Celeste interjected, putting some pancakes on her plate. "How do you automatically know it's a guy? It could be a girl."

"No, it's a dude." Gatsby confirmed.

Remy stuck his tongue out at Celeste who gave him the finger in return.

Gatsby continued: "His name is Dr. Reid and all I know about him is that he's from Las Vegas."

"City of Sin." Kimiko purred. "You want me to Google him?"

Kent made a face. "Why does the word "Google" sound filthy every time you say it?"

"You guys know I don't like prying into a person's life," Gatsby replied. "Besides I really have to go. It's an hour and a half drive to Quantico and I need to make time. Thanks for breakfast and the gifts, guys."

"No problem. We'll take care of David for you." Celeste said.

"Yeah, good luck and kick ass!" Remy added.

Gatsby laughed as she headed for the door. "Thanks. I'll probably see u tomorrow. If I don't, well in a couple of days."

After Gatsby left, Kimiko immediately raced to her laptop.

"She's going to Google Dr. Reid, isn't she?" Remy said.

Shane just smirked. "Yep."

* * *

><p><em><strong>FBI Behavioral Analysis Unit Office, Quantico, VA<strong>_

_**Mon. September 12, 2002; 7:15 A.M.**_

* * *

><p>SSA Aaron Hotchner was looking at some case files in his office when there was a knock on his door.<p>

"Come in."

The door opened and SSA Jason Gideon came in.

"Is our new member here yet?" He asked.

"Morgan said she's on her way." Hotch looked at the older man. "Are you uncomfortable with this?"

"What should I have to be uncomfortable about?"

"The fact that I recruited a younger protégé around the time you recruited yours."

"If you think Dr. Algèrnon can do this job, then she can. My opinion doesn't matter."

"But I still want it."

Gideon sighed and sat down on the couch. He exhaled deeply before answering the Unit Chief.

"Well, she's just as intelligent as Reid but she's younger than him. I don't want Strauss to think that we're doing a charity case."

"We're not." Hotch reassured. "I didn't handpick Dr. Algèrnon simply based on her intelligence. She's a good psychologist and an expert on criminology. I believe in her."

"Then we don't have a problem." Gideon said. "But she does have a slight disadvantage to Reid because she's a 19-year-old girl. We have to be extra tough on her."

Hotch nodded in agreement. The door opened and Derek Morgan came in the office followed by a young girl in wearing black, yellow and purple.

"Hey Hotch, Gideon." He greeted. "I like you to meet my niece, Dr. Gatsby Cecilia Algèrnon."

"I already met Agent Hotchner, Uncle D." Gatsby said. She came over to Hotch to shake his hand. "It's good to see you again."

"You too, Dr. Algèrnon," Hotch said. "And everyone calls me Hotch."

"Right, of course. Derek told me."

Morgan smiled and turned to Gideon. "This is SSA Jason Gideon." He introduced.

Gideon stood up from his current position to shake Gatsby's hand.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Dr. Algèrnon." He said.

"And you as well." Gatsby replied. "But please call me Gatsby. I know you guys use your last names a lot around here and it'll be pretty weird hearing you call me 'Algèrnon' everyday."

"Well, Gatsby it is." Hotch confirmed. "I arranged a desk for you in the bullpen."

"Doesn't standard procedure requires FBI psychologists to have their own offices?" Morgan asked.

"Yes, it does." Hotch agreed. "But Strauss wanted Gatsby to have 'more experience' before having her own office."

Morgan started to retort when Gatsby stopped him. "It's okay. I don't really want one. I'll probably get cabin fever or something by the end of the month. I kinda like to move around so a desk is fine."

"You sure, Gatz?"

"Yeah." Gatsby nodded.

Derek shrugged. "Alright, let's get you situated." He gathered his niece's work things and headed to the bullpen. Gatsby started to follow him before she stopped and turned back to the two senior agents.

"I just want to thank you for this opportunity." She said.

Hotch gave her a small smile. "You deserve it."

"Just keep proving to us why." Gideon added.

Gatsby nodded and left the office. She looked down at the bullpen, mainly to search for Derek but she quickly canvased the area. There were people going over paperwork, some were going to lunch, others were at conference meetings.

_**If you take away the guns, serial killers, bulletproof vests and the occasional brush with death, **_Gatsby thought. _**This could be a regular, boring job.**_

She soon found her uncle chatting with a short, petite Caucasian woman with wavy blonde hair. She was wearing a navy pencil-stripped skirt and a red low-cut V-Neck blouse, sleeveless. Gatsby shook her head as she headed downstairs where the two adults were.

"I thought you were going to get my desk situated, Uncle D?"

Derek halted his conversation and turned around to see his niece looking at him.

"I am." He defended. "This _is _your desk."

"It was sort of my fault. Sorry about that." The woman apologized. "I'm Jennifer Jareau. Everyone calls me 'JJ'. I'm the Communications Liaison for the BAU so you'll be seeing a lot of me."

"Oh." Gatsby nodded. "You're the one who does press damage?"

"Something like that." JJ smiled. "You must be Dr. Gatsby Cecilia Algèrnon. Born and raised in Chicago, went to boarding school in Montreal, Canada. You're an Ivy League Graduate, Rhodes Scholar, have two PH.D's. and is fluent in four languages. Impressive for… 18?"

"19." Gatsby corrected. "You remember all of that?"

"I read your file and Derek told me the rest of it."

Gatsby smiled. "Well, I'm guilty as charged. Nice to meet you, JJ."

"You too, Dr. Algèrnon."

"Call me Gatsby."

JJ nodded. "Won't be a problem." She picked up a stack of case files. "I'm also the person who assigns cases for the BAU, so you'll be seeing a lot of me around the bullpen. I don't usually stay in my office that much."

"Hey JJ, would it be okay if Gatsby uses your office from time to time?" Morgan asked.

"Uncle D!" Gatsby scolded. "I told you I don't need an office."

"You will eventually when all the crazies come out of the woodwork. And I'm just talking about the agents."

"Whoopee."

"I don't mind," JJ said. "Like I said, I don't stay in my office very often so you're welcome to use it."

"Thanks, JJ."

"No, problem." To Morgan, JJ asked: "Hey Morgan, you know when Spence is getting here?"

"I don't know." Morgan replied. "He's probably getting a large, extra sweet coffee from Starbucks."

"Well, when he comes in, tell him to meet in the conference room in an hour and 45 minutes." The young woman began to strut upstairs but not before she said: "It was nice meeting you, Gatsby."

"Nice meeting you too." She said back and watched as JJ went upstairs to Hotch's office.

Gatsby gave a questioning look. "Who's Spence?"

"She was talking about Dr. Reid." Derek explained. "That's what she calls him. I just call him Reid."

"And they call you 'Morgan'?"

"Yep."

"So, what do _I_ call you around here: Morgan or Derek? I certainly can't call you 'Uncle D.'"

"No, you can't." Derek laughed. "How about this: at work you call me 'Derek' and when we talk one-on-one, you can call me 'Uncle D.' That okay?"

"Fine by me." Gatsby agreed.

"So you got everything situated? I have a tactical training class to teach."

"Don't let me hold you up. I got everything covered."

Derek smiled and kissed the top of Gatsby's head. "See ya later, sweetheart."

* * *

><p>Gatsby smiled and waved as she sat down at her new desk. She felt a sense of accomplishment and nervousness as she was emptying her box of things and placing them on the hard surface. This was almost as scary as when she first started boarding school. Almost. Gatsby felt her phone vibrating in her pocket so she stopped what she was doing to see who it was. She looked at the caller ID and sighed.<p>

"What, Remy?"

**_Hey, FYI: I got you on conference call with Celeste._**

_Hey, Gatz! _Celeste Johnson chirped

**_So, Did you get settled?_**

"I'm currently in the process of setting up my desk. Why, is something wrong?"

_Oh no, nothing like that. Everything is fine, David is fine._

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone. Not deathly long but long enough for Gatsby to realize something was going on.

"Remy? Celeste?" She asked. "Are you still there?"

**_Yeah, sorry about that. We were getting ready for the breakfast crowd. _**

"Why did you two call me?"

_To see how you're adjusting to your job._

"Is that it?" Gatsby asked.

**_That…and give you some 411._**

For a second, Gatsby didn't know what that meant but _only _for a second. She made the connection dead on.

"Did you Google Dr. Reid after I _specifically _told you not to?"

_It wasn't our idea!_ Celeste defended. _It was all Kimiko's._

"It doesn't matter," Gatsby argued. "I told you guys I do not snoop into people's lives especially when it's a colleague's. If I want to meet him, I'll do it in person."

**_And that's exactly what Celeste and I told Kimi. But when we looked at this guy's picture, we were like, 'Say Whaaat?'_**

"What are you talking about, Remy? Spit it out."

_Dr. Reid looks like that guy you met this summer at Virginia Beach._Celeste revealed.

**_No fair! _**Remy whined. **_I was going to say it._**

_You were too slow. _

"Hold up." Gatsby interrupted. "You're trying to tell me that Spency, the cute genius I met in Virginia Beach, my _perfect stranger,_ is actually Dr. Reid?"

There was another pause. _Yeah, pretty much__. _Remy answered.

A mix of confusion and surprise came over Gatsby like a tidal wave. That sweet, awkward man she met three months ago is an _FBI Profiler_? She remembers the time she met Spencer. It was at Virginia Beach and she gave him the 12-letter word for 'cynical.' For a month and a half, they spent time together at a bed and breakfast near the seaside before Gatsby had to go back to New York to finish her last semester and go to the FBI Academy. But in that short time, she had the 'perfect stranger relationship.' No strings attached, no last names, just talking and playing chess or Scrabble in one of Virginia's most beautiful places. Gatsby's thoughts were interrupted by her best friend's voice on the other end.

_Hello! Earth to Dr. Algèrnon! _Celeste chimed.

"Sorry, I-I spaced out." Gatsby stammered. "That's impossible. There's no way my perfect stranger from Virginia Beach is the same guy I'll be working with for….a long time."

_**Dr. Reid's first name is Spencer, CeCe**._Remy stated. **_That's the same name as your perfect stranger boyfriend, no?_**

"First off, I never said he was my boyfriend. Secondly, the fact that Dr. Reid's first name is the same as Spency's is merely a coincidence. There are a lot of guys with the name 'Spencer' in Quantico alone."

_But do a lot of guys name 'Spencer' wear sweater vests, mismatched socks and carry an antique leather bag? _ Celeste pointed out.

"What do you mean by that?"

_Check your e-mail._

Gatsby stopped unpacking her box of things and got on her computer to access her e-mail. Once she did, she found the message Celeste sent her and it had some files attached to it. Gatsby clicked on the attachment and found a link to some articles.

"You gave me some articles about Dr. Reid saying he graduated from Caltech at 16," She told her friends. "And one about him joining the BAU. What is it you're trying to prove?"

**_Look at the picture. _**Remy instructed.

Gatsby sighed and opened the other attached file Celeste sent her, which was a picture. When she did, she nearly had a heart attack. The guy in the picture was tall, lanky man with curly, sandy blonde hair and hazel eyes. He was wearing a red sweater vest over a black button-down shirt and had a brown leather bag draped over him. There was no denying it. Gatsby's perfect stranger was indeed Dr. Spencer Reid.

"Crap, I hate it when you guys are right."

_So what are you going to do? _ Celeste asked.

Gatsby's eyes surveyed the room. "Face the music."

Her wandering stopped when she noticed a certain man carrying a leather bag walked through the glass doors.

"Remy, Celeste, I'm going to call you back."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Please don't be in love with someone else<strong>_

_**Please don't have somebody waiting on you…..**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>petite soeur=little sister<strong>_

**_The lyrics at the beginning (Gatsby's cell phone alarm): "You Get What You Give" by New Radicals_**

**_This chapter is based on: "Enchanted" by Taylor Swift_**

**Zabe Rogue here! Sorry I haven't updated! Busy, Busy, Busy! Anyway, this is Gatsby's POV of the **_**Enchanted**_** chapter. The next chapter will be told by Reid's POV. This is how they met….again. PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW! **


End file.
